


SHAZAM!! - A (mostly) Captain Marvel Story

by Darklady



Series: MARVELous 'Verse [3]
Category: Captain Marvel (Comics), DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Anal Sex, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Slash, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-21
Updated: 2012-05-21
Packaged: 2017-11-05 18:50:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/409821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darklady/pseuds/Darklady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which William Baxton gets... Pizza.</p><p>In which Kon-El gets... William Baxton.</p>
            </blockquote>





	SHAZAM!! - A (mostly) Captain Marvel Story

**Author's Note:**

> If I owned DC all comics would come in plain brown wrappers. But I don't, so they don't. 
> 
> This story, however, should.

I pick up the phone and hit the speed dial.

“Anchovies?”

“What?”

Kid...Kon... is straining his neck trying to look over the apartment while not letting me *see* him look. Not that there anything that interesting. Standard two-bedroom box with Sears furniture. I keep the ‘interesting’ souvenirs where stray burglars are less likely to stumble across them.

“You want anchovies on your pizza?”

“Not...unless you want them.” He gives me a look like wanting anchovies would be weirder then, well, just about anything. “I mean, I can eat just about anything.” Which confirms the look. I decide to pass on the fish.

“Pepperoni, onion, double cheese?”

“Kewl.”

“OK.” I give the order to the guy at the pizza place. He knows the address. I’m a regular customer. They do a good pie, and they deliver fast. That done, I turn back to Kon who is still inspecting the paint. “We’ve got about fifteen minutes. Take a seat...

Kon perches on the edge of the sofa. Hands on knees, ankles crossed - same position Billy would take in the principles office - if Billy ever did any thing bad enough to *get* sent to the principles office. 

“You live here?” The tone implies either a palace or a dungeon. Although given the company, I suppose he’d find either more probably then a two-bedroom apartment.

“Something wrong?” I ask, heading for the kitchen. Skip the plates, but we will need napkins and maybe a knife. I don’t know if he has the heat vision, and even if he does it might not work on processed cheese. That yellow plastic is as indestructible as it is indigestible.

“Uh, No.. It’s nice, Just...”

I know what it’s just, but I can’t resist teasing a little. “What were you expecting? Crystal Cave? Fortress of Solitude?”

“Well, yeh, I guess...” He squirms a bit. In a kid it would be cute. In his case? I remind little Billy that no matter *what* those muscles do Kon is underage, and until that changes he’s only here to talk.

Just for something to say, I ask. “Where do you live?”

“Right now?” More squirms and a blush. “That’s sort of... Uh... I used to have this place in Hawaii, but...”

I remember now. It was on the news. Massive destruction of some type.

“Good Advice number one Kon. Set up someplace ‘cosmic’, show it to the press, then don’t live there. That keeps the wackos from busting up your stuff.”

He nods, serious. “Makes sense. I guess”

I open the fridge, checking for drinks. Tahitian Punch for me. I’ve had enough beer tonight. And for him? “Kon? I ask. “Which way you go?”

I can feel the blush from here. “I sorta thought...”

“I mean Soder or Zesti?”

“Oh!” He starts breathing again. “Either. They’re both pretty much... Well, I like Squort.”

I reach for the green can. “Got that too. Here.”

I spin the can through the air. He catches it mid-flight. Normally I wouldn't risk a stunt like that, but if you can’t relax with your own kind?

Grabbing my own can and a big bag of nacho chips, I head back to the living room.

“Gee.” Kon blinks at the chips as if I were offering him Kryptonite. “I thought you'd have like...”

“Health food?” Sitting on the sofa arm, I tear open the bag. “Why? It’s not like I’m the Bat. What I eat doesn’t affect me - except maybe when Billy pigs out on chocos. Billy gets a good lunch at school, and me? I’d rather eat out. Guess I didn’t get the cooking skills of Aspecius.” I give that a thought. It’s not like he objected to pizza, so chips? “ Why? Are you into natural foods? I could call and change the pie to veggie.”

“No. No veggies.” Kon gives a half-chuckle. “I’d rather do burgers and stuff, but.. I keep thinking I ought to. Like setting a good example or something.”

So that’s it. “Good advice two. Set the example when you’re flying around. We owe people that. But after hours?” I pass him the chip bag. “You have to have a life sometime.”

“Like at...?” His question stutters out on his third blush. Not that I mind being hard on the kids blood pressure. Lord knows he has an effect on mine. I just wish it were for something I was doing.

This isn’t something I normally discuss. I mean - what’s to discuss? The crew at the Jack aren't there to talk. At least not philosophically. Any discussion of my sexual tastes tends to be both specific and immediate. But sex in general? Gayness in general? I haven't discussed that topic for years. Those who know *that* don’t know me - and those who know the Captain don’t know... much of anything at all, as long as I have any say in the matter. But it’s what he’s here for, so...

I give him my most ‘marvelous’ smile. “The Tattered Jack? Sure.” Leaning back, I make sure I look comfortable. No way I’m traumatizing the kid with negative self images, or whatever screwing this up would do. “I was trolling for tail. That shock you?” 

“No, of course not,” he lies. “Its just...”

“Truth now.”

“No!” Half a shout, followed by blush number four. “I mean, yes.” He looks at me, confused. “You’re Captain Marvel. You’re like this *icon* of purity. You don’t even swear. Except for maybe that Holy Moley sh..stuff.” Blush number five. On him it’s adorable.

I give him another smile. “Hey, take it from me - Moley can be one mean mother.”

*brring*

Kon looks at the door, grateful for the interruption. “Pizza guy.” Kid either has the x-ray vision or a firm grasp of the obvious. “He’s fast.”

Standing up, I reach for my wallet. “I tip well.”

I take the pizza and pay the delivery girl.

“Grab some napkins, will you?” I drop the box on the table, shoving a few magazines under the box to protect the surface. “And you could take off your jacket.”

“Oh, sure.” He pulls at the leather with unsteady fingers. “Where should...?”

I take the jacket and hang it by the door. “Relax, Kon, I’m not going to jump you.”

“Oh.” I can’t tell if he’s relieved or disappointed, and I’d bet a dollar he doesn’t know either.

“OK. So maybe I will. Someday.” I shrug. “But I’ll give you fair warning. Cross my heart.” I look at the sofa until he scrunches over to make room. Not that the other chair isn’t just as close to the food, but this gives me an excuse for rubbing up against the kid. Who is very much worth rubbing against. And hey - he’s not *that* young. A few kisses over pizza won’t scar him for life.

He tenses, then forces himself not to pull away. “I’m sorry. It’s just that...”

“You’ve never done this before.” In fact, I’d guess he hasn’t had much skin-to-skin contact of any sort. He’s skittish as hell. I remind myself to take it slowly. He’s here as a friend. Maybe a student. Not as a date. Worse luck.

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

I don’t quite know what he’s sorry for. He doesn't either. Being a teen? Being a meta? Being gay? Probably all the above and more, including being born.

“Don't be.” I make a show of reaching for chips, and finish with my leg tucked under his. “What is it with guys that they think they have to apologize because they haven't screwed everything hollow except the Chunnel?”

“Just that...” He gives me a kicked-puppy look. “Is it *that* obvious?”

He’s so clearly hoping I’ll say no, but...

“Totally.” I grin. “Which is the second reason every man at that bar was drooling over your ass before you even got it through the door. You won’t believe me for a couple of years, but... I'll tell you anyway. Innocence is hot. Very hot. Don’t be in such a hurry to lose it.”

“Second?” He looks up at me under long sable lashes.

Holly Hannah! Must be those Kryptonian genes. That color of blue just doesn’t happen in humans. Which is a pity, because it’s a shade of ocean I could gladly drown in. 

“Definitely number two,” I answer.

That gets me another look - about like the look you get if you pat a homeless dog. 

I send a sharp reminder to ‘little Billy’ not to get his hopes - or anything else - up. Kon is a nice kid, and I like him a lot, but he’s *too young* for anything more then kisses. End of argument. At least until he’s twenty-one.

“Number one is...” I grin. “You know what you look like.”

“Well. Yes.”

He shrugs. Just an unconscious gesture on his part, but we are so close that I feel his chest brush against my arm. His muscular, perfectly developed, covered-with-a-skin-tight-shirt chest. Little Billy reminds me that legal age has changed since I was born. He has a point. Nowadays twenty might be old enough.

“Look, if you’re just gonna lecture me, could you sort of...” Kon makes the zap sign with his hand. “I think I could take it easier from Big Red, ‘cause... the leather gig.. It’s distracting. I mean, I get the image you’re going to paddle my ass, and it doesn’t feel exactly like that would be a bad idea ... So…” His finger goes to his neck, imitating the steel and leather band on mine.

“OK.”

He glances around, expecting lightning. Not a chance. I pull off the dog collar and pull on a t-shirt that was over the chair. I really should clean better, but I wasn’t expecting guests. 

“That better?”

“A little. But...”

“But what?”

He shifts again. “You’re still ... hot.”

I move closer. “So are you. Which you know. The blue eyes alone could get you...”

“It hasn't gotten me as much as you’d think.

He slumps. Head down, hands slack. Which has the nice effect of getting me an armful of Kon. Very nice. But - under the circumstances - wasted. 

“You mean you’re a total virgin?”

“No!” He shudders at the word. “Well, not *absolutely*. I mean, I got *somewhere* with Tanya. And there was this guy. I can’t say his name, but... but.. well.... I mean...”

“I take it that means yes?”

“No!” He shrinks in on himself. “I mean...sort of. I mean...I guess... if you mean.... Maybe.” I get the kicked puppy look again, this time with a hint of starving kitten. “Is that a problem?”

I decide that twenty will *definitely* be old enough. And that sixteen is not *that* young. And that maybe *more* then just a few kisses would be OK. Kisses and hugs. After all, kids do grow up fast nowadays. And making out isn’t really sex. More like affection. But... I remind ‘little Billy’ - that is it.

“Only if you really don’t want me breathing heavy tonight.” I pull him over and rub his shoulders. “Like I told you - innocent is *hot*.”

“Then you?” Kon rubs back, his cheek against my shoulder.

“Did I say every *other* man?” I pull him a bit closer. His hair smells like musk and cinnamon. “Of course I want your ass. I just want it a little less then I want to NOT screw up your mind.” 

“You mean if I wasn’t...?” He makes the ‘S’ sign over his chest. Then we could...?” The starving kitten has just been handed the deed to the cream factory. I can feel the purr.

I allow myself one more squeeze before gently sitting back. Four years is suddenly looking like a long time.

“If you weren’t who you are, you’d be waiting with me for your parents to come pick you up. I *am* one of the good guys.”

“But since I am... who I am...?”

“You get pizza. On the couch. We can watch some TV. Then, maybe, when you’re older, if I get lucky and you still want me...”

I consider how to end that sentence. Four years is definitely a long time. And eighteen is legal now. Maybe - once he is in college - we might just possibly consider...? The vision comes of a just-slightly-older Kon stretched out over my favorite Scooby sheets. I ignore little Billy’s enthusiastic approval of that idea, and decide that I can debate that point later. Tomorrow. When the kid is safely out of reach.

Kon is saying, “I’m old enough...”

“To drink?” I shake my head. “I have eyes, and there is no way you are twenty-one.” 

“And if I was?”

“If you were...?” I smile at the involuntary vision. “If you were twenty-one you’d be clawing your way through my mattress right about now.”

Kon grins. “What will nineteen get me?”

Now it’s my turn to look kicked. “You aren’t....?”

He pulls out his wallet and drops a yellowed ‘Daily Planet’ clipping on the table. “As best I can figure I am. I was decanted three years ago today, and they listed me as sixteen then.”

I scan the first paragraph. “Superboy clone?” Byline by Lois Lane. Tomorrows date is clear on the top of the article... three years ago. So that means...?

“I know I ‘look’ sixteen, ”Kon continues. “It’s a clone thing. I always will. I mean, like I’ll be this ninety years old in a nursing home and I’ll look like this.” He makes a vague gesture, halfway between a shrug and a wave. “ But really? I’m either nineteen or three...So?”

I guess my arms must have opened, because he was in them before I could answer. Kid’s not Flash but he’s fast enough. After that I didn’t want to answer. My tongue had better things to do then to waste time talking. It was throwing a party, and ‘little Billy’ was the guest of honor.

It was a good ten minutes - a *very* good ten minutes - before my rational mind reminded the rest of me that ‘past eighteen’ does not automatically translate into ‘available to first offer’. And that eventually even Kryptonian physiology needs air. And that I am a *good guy*. Damn.

I didn’t have to let him go completely, but I did have to ask. “Thus the bar?”

“I didn’t exactly get a cake.” He tenses up, hurt but not willing to show it. “I figured someone there would be happy to see me.”

His lips are out of range, so I kiss the floppy curl. “Was that really what you wanted? Anonymous sex with someone you don’t know - just cause they are ‘happy to see you’?”

“It’s better then being kicked in the balls by someone you *do* know.”

Which explains a lot. Unfortunately. Grabbing on the rebound is *bad guy* behavior.

“Him or her?” I ask.

“Both.”

Double ouch. I automatically pull him just a bit closer, and he lets me.

“Tell me about ... them.”

“Well, there was this girl. Tanya. A reporter. She’s dead now, but before that?” There is a long pause. “I think she was just using me for the ratings. Or at least...” I can feel him shake his head. “And then there was this guy. We were friends. And we... but he... well, he didn’t... I mean… he wouldn’t… well...”

The narrative peters out, but I get the drift. “ I understand.” I rub his back in little circles. “Believe me. I’ve known quite a few that... wouldn't.” His ear is just perfect, so I kiss it. “That does not mean he doesn’t like you, just that... he likes different things.”

“Like girls.”

I chuckle. “Usually exactly like girls.”

He looks up. Those eyes are pacific-ocean-blue, and I am definitely going down for the third time. Happily. After all, nineteen is... still somewhat young, but... legal. Entirely legal. And he’s a very independent nineteen. This time it’s at least fifteen delightful minutes before my over-perfect conscience reminds me that he is also * innocent* and on the *rebound*, and legal or not there are definitely maturity issues here. Damn.

I break the kiss and sit up.

Kon looks at me, confused. “So?”

“So... Eat your pizza.”

“And then?”

“And then we’ll talk.”

“And then?”

He’s adorable. I can’t resist one more quick kiss.

“And then we’ll see.”

He settles back in my arms and picks up a slice of pizza. 

I watch him bite through the pepperoni. He has beautiful, perfect white teeth. They type that models try for, and no human quite has.

The tomato sauce drips out, touching his lips. They are slightly fuller and redder then a humans. Not lipstick red. Not feminine. Not even enough so you'd notice, just enough to provide a nice contrast to his slightly tanned skin.

I watch him twist his tongue around the strands of melted cheese, and remind little Billy not to get his hopes up. Among other things.

He has finished four pieces before he speaks again.

“Ah.. Cap..? I mean.. William?”

“Billy.”

“Billy?” He looks at me sideways, those infinite blue eyes flashing. “Do you think we could.. like...” He blushes. Hot enough to feel.

“Yes, Kon?” I prompt, rubbing his neck. 

“I mean I know we have to talk and all, and I want to. Really but.. do you think.. we could talk... in the morning?”

That catches me by surprise. A happy surprise. “As in. the morning after?”

He snuggles closer, and his hand lands on my thigh. “Ahh. Well. Yes.”

This kiss lasts until we are both gasping. I decide that pepperoni tastes even better when I taste it on him. Possibly *everything* will taste better if it is on him. Which leaves my extremely enhanced mind with an extensive list of all the delightful part of him I would like to taste - with or with condiments.

Kon must share that opinion, because his tongue leaves my lips reluctantly, and then only to discover if the underside of my ear is in fact an erogenous zone. It is. At least, now it is. The soft jabs as the point of his tongue probes into that tight channel feels very good indeed. Almost as good, my memory prompts, as it would feel against *another* tight channel.

Little Billy is seconding that idea, as is apparently every other cell in my body. The ‘speed of Mercury’ had decided to focus itself on my bloodstream - and my breathing - while the strength of Atlas has settled somewhere else. Somewhere with considerable stamina as well.

I impress even myself by making one last, feeble, effort at responsibility.

“You are *sure* you want this?” I murmur against his throat. “I mean, it’s a big step. There should be love, or at least respect, and trust, and...”

“I don't know about love but... I respect you a lot.” He giggles. Actually *giggles*. I feel it through my skin like champagne. “Hell, everyone I know respects you... and... I mean? If you can’t trust Captain Marvel??”

One last try.

“Enough to let me shove my cock up your ass? That much trust?”

Crude, I know, but I *want* to shock him. Warn him. Maybe scare him off if he’s uncertain. Because while he feels right, he also feels *good*, and I know that could just be little Billy talking.

He tenses. Not from rebuke. I’m too clearly wrapped around him for even adolescent angst to feel rejected. Besides which, sitting over my lap as he is he can feel how popular he is with that part of me. But he *is* an innocent.

After a moment, he answers. “Could we... sort of... take it slow?”

I lean over and - finally - allow my hand to run down his back. “I don’t see why not. After all, we both have all the time in the world.”

That ends the conversation for…well... long enough for the pizza to go dead cold. Not that it’s all one kiss. This time I keep those shorter. It’s nice to breath. Besides, this way I have the extra time to explore all the other interesting parts. Like the back of his ears, and the hollow of his neck, and the sensitive curves at the start of his shoulders. 

When I reach that I decide that his t-shirt is in the way. No problem. 

*Riiipppp.* 

I can give him another in the morning, and he doesn't seem to be objecting to the loss. Besides, mine goes the same way. 

That gets me a wonderful expanse of chest to explore. Virgin territory, to judge by his moans. Kryptonians are relatively hairless - something like American Indians - and they have extremely sensitive nipples. I bite one and he *literally* comes off the couch. Not that I mind. Air space just makes it easier to reach his back.

The pants are a little tougher, so I decide to just unzip them. Easy enough, now that the sofa cushions aren't in the way. I’m glad the modern fashions are loose. A few tugs and the unwanted fashion is on the floor.

Kid goes commando. 

I kiss my way down his chest, pausing to lick his navel. Strange that he would have one, being a clone, but he does. Innie. He tastes of cinnamon here too. I spare a passing thought for whether that is Kryptonian, or just Kon. Not that it matters. Either way, he’s delicious.

That thought brings me to something else nearby that is also delicious. Yummy. Juicy. Mouth watering.

Kryptonian cock looks human. Big, but human. A bit large for a mouthful, but perfect for my hand. Nice. Very nice. Full, and firm, and delicious. Uncut. Well, yes, I guess he would have to be, if you think about it.

He freezes a bit when he notices exactly *where* I am looking.

“You’re gorgeous.” I reach down to give him a light stroke. “I must remember to thank your designers.”

“Oh.” He pulls me down onto the cushions. “Please!”

I smile, running my other hand down to his balls. “You want to just neck on the couch some more?”

“No. Please.” He arches into my hand, already weeping. “I means yes. I mean I want that, but... also...”

“Understood.” I wrap my legs around his and float us both out. “Lets move this back to the bedroom.”

I head for ‘William’s’ room and settle us both on the Queen-sized bed. Not that I bring home friends very often, but when I do? This is the room they see. So this is the room with the supplies.

I reach without looking over to the nightstand and pull out the lube.

Kon ignores the action, caught up as he is in finding new parts of my body to taste. He has more enthusiasm then skill, but who cares. As the saying goes, it’s all good. He rolls over me, touching and kissing at apparent random, until my first damp finger slides gently between his cheeks then continues on deeper.

“You don't need to...” He freezes, not pulling away from my touch, but clearly uncertain. “I can take...

“You can *take* a lot, I’m sure.” I rub the entrance until he relaxes, then reach down again for another finger-load of lotion. “But this isn't an endurance run.” A few more kisses distract him enough so that I can move one finger inside. “Besides.. I need to know...”

I touch a soft bump of skin, and he leaves the bed. Straight up.

“Good.”

“What the...” His cheeks tighten again, but not in a bad way.

“Just checking.” I pull my finger out for another load. “Alien physiology and all. If you were built differently?”

“No. I’ve got...”

I send back the finger, and add another beside it. “So I see. Or rather feel.”

As I touch the sweet spot, he jerks again, stronger. This time, as I’m expecting it, I manage to keep him from actually hitting the ceiling. By the third stoke he manages to stay loose, getting the hang of the idea. Kid is a natural.

With my other hand I hold up a little foil packet. “Normally I'd insist, just to be PC, but I assume?”

“Totally immune,” he answers, rubbing against me. “Not that they could take a blood test to find out - but with the bio field?”

“It extends inside?” I add a third finger to emphasize my point.

“Pretty much as far as STAR can reach.”

Probably a painful image. At least it will be tomorrow. Right now it just sends another wave of fire up my nerves at he vision of how far - and with what - they might have tried.

“Ditto.” I toss the packet. Captain Marvel is *beyond* immune. Even if something happens to Billy? Once I shift over I’m perfect again. Wonderful trick during flu season.

With three fingers, I have him pretty well spread. He *is* more flexible then most humans. I’m managing to hit his sweet spot every few strokes, and after I wrap my other hand around his shaft? Teenagers have incredible recovery, but not much endurance. Which is fine. I cherish the look on his face as he comes hard, spilling over my hand as I match my inner strokes to his rhythm.

“Man.” Kon gasps when he finally catches his breath. “ What did you do? That was...” He ends the sentence with a shudder of pure pleasure.

He’s still too sensitive for direct stimulation, so I just stroke around the ring. “You never?”

“Not like that! Ro..” Kon catches himself before he finishes the name. “*He* wouldn't. Not inside. Never inside.”

“I understand,” I say. And I do. “If he doesn’t do that, he’s not gay. Right?”

“Something like that. He has this... guardian... and...”

“Guardian wouldn’t approve?”

I don’t get an answer, but I don’t need one. The shudder I feel roll over him says it all.

Pulling out, I massage Kon’s back until he is again relaxed and on the mattress. Then I kiss him until a *part* of his tension returns. The good part.

“Well, this is lecture number three. Ain't nobodies business if you do.”

“Not even?”

I don’t know if he means this ‘guardian’, or his own supposed ‘brother’ or whatever in the blue longjohns. Not that it matters. Same answer either way.

“Especially not even.” 

Which is fine philosophically, but leaves me with a practical problem. A big problem. A hard problem. 

I snatch up the hand which is making its way cautiously down my back, kissing the palm before setting it back even lower. 

I don’t know exactly what he got from this Tanya girl. Possibly a blow job, though from the way Kon responds - or rather *doesn’t respond* - whenever I send a kiss below his waistline, I tend to question even that. And from his nameless boyfriend? Even less likely. Especially if he wouldn't even try a finger massage. So that leaves the occasional hand job.

Holy crap. He *is* a virgin.

His hand is sliding over my ass, brushing tentatively against my balls.

I lean back, rubbing my hard cock against his thigh. That gains me a moan, then a shiver. He’s kissing my throat again, and he’s found the bit of skin behind my balls that makes me twitch when he strokes it. Which he does. Repeatedly. All of which is trying to distract my mind from my problem. My big, *hard* problem.

I kiss him back and try to think.

Kon is a *virgin*.

A hot, willing, horney virgin. An eager-to-be-ex virgin. But still... the kid doesn't know his top from his bottom - much less which one he is. So - for a first time?

I reach down. He’s hard again, and at the first touch he rubs himself against my fingers. His cock is hard, and hot, and a bit slick from the excess lube that has transferred over from my hand. Good.

I reach a decision.

A bit untraditional, but I think it’s right - so of course it is. Wisdom and all that. Pushing him down until his back hits the sheets, I tuck a pillow under his neck and shoulders.

“Just rest back, Kon.”

“What?”

“You trust me. Right?”

My kiss absorbs his answer, but given the enthusiastic vigor with which his tongue follows mine, I assume that is a yes. Even a yes, please.

Holding on to his shaft, I float up and slide right down. And freeze.

He actually ‘hurts’ a bit starting in. Not much, but enough to shock me. When was the last time - was there *ever* a time - when someone’s cock was hard enough to move *me*?

He moans. The sound is wonderful. I forget the ache part and concentrate on the full. The fabulously full.

“Wait, Kon.” Stroking his chest, I urge patience. “Just a little deeper, and then you can thrust.”

I press myself down onto the last inch or so, until I can feel his curls under mine. 

He feels *very* good. Slightly hotter than human, and much firmer. I squeeze down. For once I won’t have to worry about hurting a fragile partner.

“Fuck me, Kon.”

That was the magic word. He drives up. Hard. Almost hard enough to lift me from the bed. He shouldn’t have much leverage from his position, but when you can fly, who needs it?

I hold steady, letting him move. He will anyway, and this way he can find his own pleasure. And mine. Very definitely mine.

His shaft is long, and wide, and as I angle myself every stroke brushes over my prostate. Three strokes and I’m gasping, head back, skin on fire, getting fucked more truly then I have been ever before in my unfailing memory.

I wrap his hands around my cock, stroking myself with his fingers as he drives wildly.

Almost too soon, I feel him splash strongly inside me.

I return the favor, spilling over his chest.

Kon is still gasping as I float off, reaching into the drawer for a hand towel as I settle beside him on the bed. Too overwhelmed to speak, he snuggles against me until, quite a bit later, his breathing has returned to normal.

“Billy?” he whispers against my chest.

I brush back the fallen curl. “Yes, Kon?”

“Next time?” He strokes my shaft, which begins to stir. “Can I? Will you?” he kisses my shoulder, and I can feel the heat of the blood rushing to his cheeks. “Inside me?”

 

+FINIS+NON+EST+

 

This fic is dedicated to Dannell (founder of the First Church of the Divine Moley) who left us too soon.

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©KKR 2012


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